Blood Red Sky
by Assassinita
Summary: A test of initiation for the infamous Redcoat Templar, Eleanor Mallow has lead her to make an uncertainly acquaintance to the one known only as 'The Coyote Man.' A trail of blood follows their wake when she finds trouble and drags him in... [The Redcoat x The Coyote Man] - Assassin's Creed III: Multiplayer -


**Blood Red Sky** by Assassinita

The test of initiation for the infamous Redcoat Templar, Eleanor Mallow has lead her to make an uncertainly acquaintance to the one known only as 'The Coyote Man.' A trail of blood follows their wake when she finds trouble and drags him in...

* * *

A/N: When I first saw "The Redcoat" it wasn't love at first sight but there was something so unusual about her story that captured me in the span of only a simple paragraph. I knew then that I had to write about her. "The Coyote Man's" illusiveness and the fact that he was a Templar intrigued me just as much.

**NOTE:** The multiplayer characters that appear in this story follow their **unlocked** **Erudito** summaries that show the truth of their pasts. Prepare to see some multiplayer characters that are Assassins.

**Disclaimer: **_The Redcoat__,__The Coyote Man__ and all things __Assassins Creed__ are under the property of __Ubisoft__._ _However, any original characters, events, places and plot are property of __Assassinita __and may not be used without permission._

**Dedicated to my dear friend. It's with his vibrant imagination and influence that I became an unexpected shipper to this unusual couple. **

**- Chapter One -  
Trails of a Noble Breed  
**

_The harshness of reality was unmatched by any other emotion that could have preceded it. That she was unabatedly female changed everything, and oh how society was so flawed..._

The sun had not shown it's face in recent months amidst the bitter cold, the blanket of white that swallowed the landscape made every sight all the more blinding. The air was fresh yet held a dampness in the pit of her stomach that couldn't be explained. She felt it every time she inhaled the biting temperatures.

Eleanor cursed under her breath. This was perhaps her punishment for being found out, it was the reason why she left to Boston after all. To have judgment cast out upon her. But ironically, the meeting that was supposed to decide her fate took a turn for the worse because now she was over a week late at the appointed destination. The high-ranking Templars awaiting her presence would be throughly unimpressed even before she'd have a chance to speak for herself. A lasting first impression, that would unfortunately be a bad one. If only the weather had not decided to ridicule her for it. If only she didn't have to travel into storms that had they not been there, would have given her perfect and impeccable timing.

Worst of all was that she had to be escorted! She, the daughter of a Loyalist Commander who was also a High Officer within the Templar Order. It couldn't be fathomed. Yes, she had hidden her identity but for their cause. She had done more good for them than any crime, perhaps more than all their men combined in Philadelphia.

And her father would be there to see her allegation.

Eleanor mumbled again, pulling the collar of her over-sized redcoat closer to her face. She had not seen her father in years. There were too many emotions that she couldn't pin-point. Nervousness, apprehension, love and guilt all swirled together to build doubt. Matthew Davenport had basically given her the life that she always wanted. One with constant adventure and feverish danger, a perfect life devoted to the will of the Order. She had begged, no pleaded him for it and he had given in to her wishes despite her gender and rich breeding.

He made her wear the uniform of the Loyalists worn by men and had her hide the fact that she was female. Only his most loyal men knew of his secret and her father knowing that they were bound to his trust, made them swear an oath of silence, that they would never reveal her identity, protect her honor without fail and would become her brothers.

_And it all ended up like this!_

Huffing an elevated sigh that could almost be considered haughty, Eleanor shot a seething glare to the four people traveling with her.

The two soldiers in front that she didn't recognize could not hear her annoyance, but the duo beside her were men of her fathers' band that Eleanor had worked with for most of her life in Philadelphia. And they both couldn't have been farther from personality.

On her right Timothy Martin gave her a pitying glance and though Eleanor didn't want to discern it, perhaps even care. The tall man was young of face with chestnut hair just as her own, and an easygoing person that didn't like to be put in tough situations. The bright-eyed woman had antagonized him mercilessly about it without further consideration. If one was to join the army, one should have tough skin and not level themselves to that of a meer commoner. Granted though the man was a very talented sharpshooter. But when work was away, he held a rather eerie yet positive disposition; his smiles shown too much for his own good. Someone who could be easily used. She remembered brawling him a number of times when he'd catch her in a sour mood.

To her left was a solider she had known all her life even in her young days of England. Caleb Elijah Sutherland held his pointed chin high, a devilish smirk painted on his face. This man had sworn loyalty to her father and as far as she could tell had never broken a single word or order from him. Yet it seemed that something murky loomed in his navy eyes whenever he spoke to his colleagues and especially herself. He'd always slur low comments that would sometime end with more fighting than necessary. Those were in her younger days, and that he seemed happy with her predicament was not surprising. Eleanor considered him more nuisance than man and perhaps that's wherein the similarity of the two men laid.

Nevertheless she would see herself through, Eleanor understood that she was under her fathers' responsibility and that he'd have to speak towards his actions as well as her own. But she wouldn't let it cloud her judgment. At least that's what she told herself.

With new resolve she trudged through the snow that had reached shin high.

Eleanor Mallow would belong to the Order.

* * *

_North Boston 1772 (Destination: The Green Dragon Tavern)  
_

Hearing the hustle and bustle of the city streets was the norm for the redcoat, as news of her arrival spread from Templar ear to ear. If the words were true, they had already made preparations for her late entrance. Glancing around, the Englishwoman had remembered that she had not been to Boston in so long. The winters were damp here and held little glow. In the distance one could hear a salesman selling fish in the nearby market and the wails of a crying, perhaps sick child were not far behind. Though this was the richer area of the city, the weather held no bias towards anyone.

She at least took happiness in seeing the semblance of civilization once again. It calmed her. Eleanor Mallow despite everything she was, was a city person.

"We're here." One of the men grunted in front of her as they offhandedly parted the way for her to enter the tavern. With a simple look at the wooden door, one could tell it was in dire need of a new knob.

Standing erect, Eleanor took one last callous look at her 'escorts' who were now behind her. She would have bid them farewell, but the brown-haired woman was in a severely sour mood. The two men that had just recently knew of her femininity had eyed her in a mixture of perplexity and resentment throughout most of the trip, acting as though their stares were nonexistent. They didn't deserve a single ounce of her thanks. Timothy and Caleb seemed to be ignoring her.

Not wasting a second more, Eleanor entered.

The expanse of the room held a golden earth glow, pronounced by the immense amount of candles used within the building. It led to a pleasurable scene of comfort and tranquility, the smells of ale were not as rampant as she had expected. Instead cinnamon waved the air and it was oddly unnerving. Looking around it appeared as though the building were empty but Eleanor knew better.

Suddenly a tiny man scampered from the upper level of the tavern down towards her, he looked nervous with beads of sweat perspiring from his forehead.

"Your father sends word only to speak the truth. They await you upstairs." the man squeaked before rushing to the exit.

Eleanor mustered a quizzical yet humorless look. "What a peculiar man..."

Knowing that she would not be seeing her father in the safe haven of personal quarters had her on guard. She would not disappoint him, yet such conclusions were fickle. Only silence filled the tavern except for the clambering of her feet, they were uncomfortable and sore from the long travel.

_I wonder if he'll even recognize me. Or I him? _

Reaching the level was nothing sort of a few seconds but it felt like many dreadful hours. When Eleanor looked up to three faces, she instinctively sought that of her family. They stood behind a simple table with aloof masks of discretion on their faces. Something reached the tip of Eleanors' throat that threated to fall upon seeing her beloved father. But observing the lack of emotion on his own, reminded her to school her face into a blank expression. He was to the left of the other men and remembering her place, Eleanor instantly crouched into a bow; placing her hand over her chest.

"My lords." She said firmly, noting that they seemed to regard her with distant looks. Each of them wore different hues of red, affiliating the symbol with the British but Eleanor knew better. These men were beyond class, perhaps even higher than her father within the Templar Order. This should have been an honor for her but this was a hearing, a shame of sorts.

A numbing silence passed before the man in the center decided to speak.

"How is it you wished to be addressed child? It would seem that you run amoungst many aliases... does Edwin Smith resonate with you the most?"

Eleanor gritted her teeth, 'Edwin Smith' had been one of the many names she adopted on missions but it most certainly felt ridiculing when they obviously knew of her gender. She was glad that the tricorne hat she wore hid her unhinged expression.

"Do you wish to use your fathers-"

"Eleanor Mallow."

It had come out harsher than she had hoped. Perhaps it would have been better to use her father's surname but she let the truth be known anyways.

"It is how I prefer to be called. I will always be a Davenport, but I remain true to my feelings. It is how I wish to be entitled." Eleanor added in a lower tone though just as firm. Peering up she could see that her fathers lack of response had not changed.

One man frowned with a critical eye before speaking, "Well Miss Eleanor Mallow, it would appear that your audience has become reasonably smaller due to your lack of awareness for time. Might I address that you're almost shy of being two weeks late, such quarries are unforgivable. Especially during a time when there is so much at stake. -"

Bristled, Eleanor opened her mouth to apologize on such fronts though it wasn't truly her fault, but stopped immediately when the man continued.

"Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise, as I see there is really no need to waste anymore of my colleges time and I'm willing to handle the processes without getting their hands sullied. Particularly on such a random account if I do say so myself."

The Englishwoman bit her tongue in spite, it would do no good to lash out unwarranted. To say that they were mocking her as a woman was uncertain, but it didn't make her feel any better.

"You may have heard of us before, this man across from you is Sir William Johnson and I, Officer Jonathan Pitcairn."

Realization swept through Eleanor's eyes and immediately regretted her inner ire towards the higher ups. They were to be revered and she mentally reprimanded herself for it.

The three men noticed that the tension in her shoulders somehow relaxed though it came back seconds later.

Johnson heaved a sigh, if this was to be his last hours of work before he headed on his way than at least it would clear things out of the way for Commander Matthew Davenport. Too many curious heads were already seeking rumors. "Do you know why you are here?"

"To answer for hiding my feminity and identity while seeking your interests without consent." Eleanor replied, she had practiced what she wanted to say beforehand throughout the duration of the trip but all of it didn't quite reach her lips. The words refused to spill.

"Claiming your title as a Templar when such rights haven't been given to you thus is the worst of your problems. I will be frank, it is an insult to our order. We cannot have people running their teeth whether they be rich, poor or run till the ground. People that are aware of us are sometimes dispatched thereof. As you must know, it's part of the burden that comes with our knowledge."

Eleanor nodded, "I am quite aware, sir."

"Then perhaps we shall speak of how you begun your career." Johnson inquired. Eleanor lifted her head taken aback.

_Surely, they must have heard all from father. _

Eleanor didn't know where to start, a long pause filled the room as she tried to recall all the moments. It was as if all inhibition left her and she didn't know where to begin. She had wanted to give as much to as little information as possible.

"Stand up and speak." Her father suddenly ordered, his voice boomed as she reflexively stood, a flinch in her form. She may not of heard the sound of his voice in years but her body intrinsically held a memory of its own. A storm was brewing in Matthew Davenports blue eye's but it was guarded. There was only so much tarnish a man's reputation could endure, especially one of an esteemed Commander.

"It was in my younger days, my father had allowed me the privilege of becoming his protége. And as I am now, it was truly a dream come true for me. Barely the age of fifteen when I donned the coat of red and sent away to Philadelphia. It was there that I worked to aid the Templar goals."

Pitcairn quipped, "How so?"

"Letters from Sir Matthew Davenport, my father."

They continued their silence and Eleanor knew that they itched for an elaboration. "There were many tasks that needed to be fulfilled and my father trusted my expertise that I could send swift judgment upon them without the need of his presence. It gave him time to deal with more pressing matters in his hands. As such I am not as unable as you qualified _men_ may think. "

Pitcairn raised a stray eyebrow at the last comment but made no other implication that he heard her. "And this is where you gained our information? No others?"

"Of course."

Johnson nodded. "Has Philadelphia been the only place you've traveled to fulfill these 'assignments'?"

"Yes and in many surrounding towns. Though the majority of my time is spent within the city."

"Recent hearings lead me to believe that you have used our name out of turn during more than one occasion. Is this true?"

Eleanor's jaw tightened, to say that she was lax in her words was not necessarily a lie but she'd never...

"Speak!" Her fathers' voice slashed.

"I had no intention of jeopardizing the Order." the woman supplied hastily.

"So indeed you have." Pitcairn regarded more so to himself, "You did not deny our question therefore you must be guilty."

"Permission to speak, sir?"

"Of course."

Eleanor stared straight at each man, they all held serious regard for her next words. When she observed them closer neither men looked to be disgusted with her presence, perhaps it was not as how she originally thought. They were looking at simple truths, not prejudices; their faces still as hard as iron.

"I'm a capable solider, during my-"

Pitcairn huffed, "Any man can say that their a capable solider. Believe me, I would know." He turned his attention to Matthew Davenport. "Commander, perhaps it is best to tell those two men of yours to come inside. I would like to have a word with them."

"Yes, perhaps so."

Eleanor tensed. She had not expected for anyone else to be summoned but quickly began to realize that it made sense. Pitcairn would inquire about her obviously and it was their responsibility to testify. Whether they chose to be on her side or not. The cold gait of her father walked passed her, and when he returned Timothy Martin and Caleb Sutherland were not far behind. They stood beside her. Pitcairn paced in front of them, arms placed behind his back like any Marine of the British would.

"State your names."

"Timothy Martin."

"Caleb, sir."

There was a rhythm of familiarity to their speech. "I'll get straight to it, I need to ask you men some questions. And I'll have you speak nothing but the holiest of truths. Should you bray inconsistences I will not hesitate to cut you down."

"Yes sir!" They said together.

Pitcairn eyed them both intently, taking in every hill and crevice of their expressions before slipping his glance to Eleanor and ignoring her once more. Something about this situation didn't sit well with the Englishwoman, to have these loons speak for her cause would be a mistake.

"Assuming the way you both are, I'm guessing that it's you Caleb who holds more authority in terms of lead. Am I not correct?"

Caleb nodded.

"Very well." Pitcairn paced again, "Timothy."

"Yes sir!" the taller solider stiffened, Eleanor could hear the trace of a slight stutter. One could see the apprehension surrounding him.

"Do you believe Miss Mallow to be a capable solider?"

Timothy paused for a second, it may have looked as if he was speculating the question but Eleanor knew that the words were simply lost to him. He was not used to having the spotlight and whenever it happened, his mind would become nothing but an empty bucket. Agitation itched the back of Eleanor's composure as she remembered to appear calm.

"I believe she is Lord Pitcairn."

"Hmm, so you believe...and you Caleb?"

"She is capable."

A look of reluctant acceptance befell the Templar as he went to stand beside Johnson and Matthew. "Very well."

"But-"

Trepidation glossed Eleanor's face as she swiftly jerked her head towards Caleb who had spoken so casually. The way he stood held no fear as he himself was unreadable. The three leaders looked at him expectantly.

"While there is no doubt that she is physically fit, her being under our supervision with soldiers unable to reprimand her due to her fathers station has left Miss Davenport with no restraint. It is often that she speaks of the Templar Order with atrocious disregard to her actions. She is impatient with an ego that lacks the covert ways of our duties. Completely disrespectful to the higher order and the belief system of the Templars. Her tongue waggles and slashes out for no reason other than to better her own personal self-admiration."

An explosion of rage shot up inside the Englishwoman, Caleb may have held a grudge against her but he was lying when he spoke of her supposed "incessant need" to reveal the Order. Never would she do such a thing, to lie in one's grave would be better than betraying her own belief. It was obvious that the man wanted nothing to do with her anymore and would feel quite proud of himself to be her undoing. Eleanor unintentionally crushed the hilt of her blade underneath her fingertips.

"I see..."

The looks that spread across the faces of the three men held more than she needed to know. They trusted his words more than her own and she barely had the chance to speak. The anger that could no longer be hidden consumed Eleanors' very being. To see her father accept everything as it was, was stupefying. She was his daughter! Legally under his guardianship!

Both soldiers knew that she was of greater prowess than themselves. Caleb must have felt safe within Templar presence knowing that she would not physically attack him. Oh how she so badly wanted let him have a taste of her most trusted spadroon and rip his stomach inside out. She couldn't stand it any longer.

Caleb continued. "If I may be so frank, she is beyond spoiled, a brat at best. Sh-"

"Don't you dare tell me that I haven't spent just the same amount of time as you have, if not more for the sake of the Order!" Eleanor seethed. "The words of our belief reign true to me as does the blood in my veins. I swear it! Don't disregard me for a boyish mollycoddle! You bastard!"

The last part came out as a low hiss and despite how badly her reputation would be sullied, Eleanor couldn't care less. Caleb was insulting her devotion to the Order, the most sacred thing to her. It was beyond despicable.

"Why would I feel the need to threaten my own faith?! I will not have you insult my honor! Not while I stand guard to it. "

Johnson speculated as he watched the scene unravel with interest, sliding a look towards his companion Pitcairn he could almost detect the faintest hint of a smile. His friend always did admire the ones with gusto and spirit. Such zeal made for great allies, offhandedly Charles Lee came to mind. Matthew still held no emotion, cold towards the vigor that was an embodiment of his own.

Eleanor turned towards them and bowed. Johnson nodded, acknowledging her. Something about they way her determination shook the room was captivating, he wanted to believe that she was a genuine soul.

"If I may be so bold. Father, is it not that I have fulfilled all the physical training reserved for men of the Templar Order to the best degree at the young age of fourteen?"

That took Johnson offguard, so she was the one questioning now? If Matthew could be stiffer than he was now than he didn't show it.

"Is was you who trained me was it not?" She held her head high, bating him to speak. When their eyes locked it was as if they saw each other for the first time that day. Eleanor struggled to keep her composure. This was her commander not her father, the man she took orders from for most of her life. Eleanor tried to keep the love she had for him and the reverence as two separate entities. Her hazel struck his sickly pale blue. This question was to prove her worth, not reassure her.

At least that's what she told herself.

"Yes. That is true." Matthew finally confirmed. "I trained you rigorously."

A low breath the woman didn't realize she held left her. "And did I not achieve each and every mission you sent for me to a complete success?"

"Yes that is true."

"And did I not, give you news of other activities within the area that required your attention? Some of which held true?"

"That is very much so."

"Did I not do this in an act of my own conscious to protect and serve under the ideals of the Order? And not that of simple commands?"

Matthew simply nodded at this. Eleanor composed herself, she wasn't sure if her father approved of her tactics to show her case in the light of her "crime." But questioning him would undoubtedly bring a spectrum that the woman couldn't achieve on her own. And she wouldn't be dumb enough not to use it.

Eleanor didn't even bate an eyelash at her next comment. "Then with complete disregard of my lineage I would be an asset, no?"

The question loomed within the tavern. It felt much more like a invitation to a challenge than a simple question. She knew her father could see the double-edged meaning behind such a question. Undoubtedly to take advantage of that same familial instinct that would befall him nonetheless to protect her fealty.

Matthew kept his eyes directly on her own. His eyebrows furrowed for a split of two seconds before regaining their previous countenance. Both Pitcairn and Johnson could understand the meanings to the question, and the former tried his best to hide away a smirk that was tugging his lips. She had played them at their own game and it seemed that Matthew would have to bend to her will. A hint of triumph swelled in Eleanor.

It was a few more moments before he spoke again, this time as if in judgment. "In light of what has passed than I'd consider you to be a decent asset. But on the contrary you are an benefit because of your familiarity. If I were to disregard that you are of my blood then there would be no hope for you, because I would not trust you. And no other man would, as you are, to put it bluntly a woman. How would I know that you are trained efficiently? So on the contrary you would most likely in all aspects be a complete failure. I would not risk my time for you. To ask me such a delusional question is nonsense because it has no relevancy. I didn't realize you would be so dimwitted."

To say that she was surprised would be an understatement, Eleanor felt as if she took a backhanded slap to the face. That was far from what she expected and her father knew it. "Tell me, are you that upset to be a part of my family to even question being abolished from it. Am I that a disgrace?"

There was irony in Matthew Davenport's words and an empty smile. Eleanor forgot just how cunning and smart her father was. The personal bearings of the question was heavy and should have never been asked. Her heart hammered within her ears, her love for her father was immense and he put her within a situation where she'd never cross the line. Where she'd never _want_ to either.

Instantly Eleanor bowed so that they wouldn't be able to see her face. "To be under your service commander has been my greatest blessing, being your daughter is only fate. My goal has always been and always will be to rise against the Assassins. To cleanse the land of those that wish to disturb our efforts and don't understand the true meaning of peace through submission."

Eleanor smiled as she stood upright once again, "And pardon me for saying that I wish to see it staying that way."

A detached flash of recognition swept through Matthew's eyes before he gave Johnson and Pitcairn a mumbled exchange of words. Eleanor couldn't tell what they were thinking, but she didn't care. She got to speak her mind and that was completely in her power. "The ways of the Templar are absolute to me."

"So you'd like to become a Templar?" Pitcairn scrutinized.

"In all highest sense of the word, yes."

"Due to your lack of attendance in the recent weeks we were allowed to deliberate on a few of your issues. We've devised a plan for you, if you wish to accept."

If they truly would allow her a place amoungst them, Eleanor would try her hardest to become recognized as a worthy member. "Understood."

"You will continue to be under the command of Lord Davenport and will be tested on many fronts with exceedingly difficult assignments, challenges and long term missions. You will be logged for your attendance upon certain tasks. Do these without question, and you will prove your allegiance to the Templars. Your whereabouts must be known to all authorities that are proscribed to your dealings."

"Do you wish to accept?" Her father challenged.

There was no reason not to accept, it was the best outcome she could hope for. Eleanor nodded curtly. "Yes."

* * *

**End of Chapter. **

**TBC.**

This story will follow the progress of Eleanor before she has gained her reputation as a famous Templar. And yes, just like in her official description she will be a brat but she will grow to be more mature by the end of the story. I'm taking a lot of freedom with the story in terms of characterization as I believe multiplayer simply shows the expressions of when the persona's are enraged and ready to smash your brains in. There's a lot a family drama with Eleanor and her father as more things will be revealed slowly.

The settings will change but it goes along the timeline of Connor's life within the game. There will be mentions of his assassinations but as of right now, I don't plan on giving him a cameo. Haytham will get one though, however small.

**Please review!  
Assassinita**


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